now the pale honey of a kitchen light
by bluestreetlights
Summary: a good morning sets the tone for the day. series: all day all over the city (every person wanders a different city); part 2.


It's past midnight.

Tim stares up at the ceiling in silent contemplation. He's on the bed, arms spread open and trying to relax while the sounds of muffled muttering and crashing come through the room's open door.

Somewhere in the apartment he can hear the sound of his dad's pikachu warbling out a song and his dad shushing it desperately because he thinks Tim is asleep. The absurdity of the situation brings a smile to his face and he covers his mouth to muffle the laughter trying to escape. How is this his life now?

"How is this your life now," says Jack on the phone. "No really I mean, just a couple of weeks ago you were —"

"Shh shh I know Jack listen," Tim answers with one hand holding the phone and the other tracing shapes on the blankets. "It's crazy I know but he's really trying. He's always been trying I just —"

"You didn't know, man. I mean you had some preconceived notions about the whole thing but in the end you really just didn't know."

Tim swallows the lump in his throat and sighs.

"Yeah, you're right."

"But now you do know," continues Jack. "So you just gotta figure out what you want to do about it."

"I know what I _want_ to do, dude. I just don't know how to do it."

"And that's why you called me, obviously."

Tim drags his hand across his face and laughs, feeling lighter already.

"Yeah man. That _is_ why I called you. So what do you got?"

"Okay well first —"

* * *

The next morning dawns bright and gold and Tim wakes up to a warm weight on his chest. Pikachu is curled up half on his shoulder, breathing gently and not shifting off even as Tim runs his hand across the velvet softness of its fur. It pushes closer instead, tucking its fluffy head underneath Tim's chin and purring in content.

"Hey," says Tim drowsily. "Good morning to you too."

Pikachu chirps back in greeting and holds on to Tim, accompanying him through his morning routine and perching up on his shoulder as he shuffles to the kitchen for breakfast.

Harry is already up, papers and case files spread haphazardly all across the dining table and Tim stalls for a moment, watching the way his eyebrows furrow and the hand he brings up to scrub against his hair. The gestures and expressions are familiar in a way that comforts him.

"Morning," he says and Harry jolts, blinking owlishly up at him.

Harry's eyes soften and the smile that brightens his face makes him look years younger. Tim can see the fragile hope in his eyes, paired with a love so deep he can feel it in his bones. Harry scrambles for an answer and only gets as far as a hoarse good morning back before Pikachu is launching himself forward through the air.

Harry's arms open automatically and he steadies himself before they go both down together.

"Wow okay alright," he says. "Good morning to you too, you little terror."

Pikachu squirms his way up to his shoulder and chirps triumphantly. Tim covers up his laugh with a cough even as Harry sends him a mock stern glare.

"Hey," says Tim. "He didn't learn that from me."

Harry sputters and Pikachu titters behind his paws at his shocked expression. Tim shoots him a grin from over his shoulder and busies himself with making breakfast. He eyes the coffee machine for a moment before making a decision. When he comes back to the table he's holding two mugs of coffee and a plate of toast, balancing them all carefully.

Harry lights up as he gives him the mug and they spend the rest of the morning in companionable silence, save for the occasional ribbing and Pikachu's many determined tries to swipe their coffee.

Harry reads over his case files and the security work sent over to him from Roger for the Recovery Centre. Tim makes headway in his training modules and replies to Lucy's messages about something new and interesting and without a doubt, incredibly dangerous. They spent a while scheduling a meet-up since they've both got their hands full, what with Lucy's reporter work and new job in the Centre and Tim's detective training.

By the time the two both resurface from their work it's just past noon and Harry is wringing his hands.

"What's up?" says Tim, watching curiously as Harry opens his mouth and then closes it again. He shuts his laptop off and turns his full attention towards him, almost worried. "Is something wrong?"

"Well no, not really. I mean yes but it's not."

Harry sighs and drags his hand across his face before taking a deep breath.

"Furniture shopping," he says and the words take on an uncertain lilt. "Would you like to go with me? I mean, for your room since the stuff there is all you know — and since you're staying and all."

His words trail off and something warm bursts to life in Tim's chest like the first touch of spring.

"Yeah," he says and the word comes out too loud. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yeah dad, I'd love to.

The words come out soft and easy.

"Great," says Harry and his eyes shimmer for a moment. He blinks quickly and though his smile is wobbly at the edges it is nothing less than sincere. "That's great. I'm — I'm looking forward to it."

Tim leans over for a quick hug and finds himself enveloped in warmth, strong arms wrapping tight around his body like they always used to. He presses his head against his dad's shoulder and the sigh that escapes him leaves his body loose, like he's just let go of something. He's missed this. He's missed him so much.

"Yeah dad," he whispers, a little choked up himself. "So am I."

* * *

The next week is a whirlwind of activity as all sorts of plans come together and collide. They go shopping, Tim and his dad and Pikachu riding on one of their shoulders the whole time. They laugh over strangely shaped lamps and struggle with putting together the bed, spending a whole afternoon attempting to fit the pieces of wood together and dissolving into tired giggles at 3am when the damn thing starts to look more like an avant-garde art piece instead of a place to sleep in.

Tim takes the couch that night and wakes up to find the bed fixed, the pillows fluffed and the sheets tucked in with what could have been precision at one point but was now a mess thanks to Pikachu creating a nest within the blankets. The effort still makes him smile and the bubble of happiness in his chest blooms and bursts with light. He scoops Pikachu up from the bed and arranges him in his arms, ignoring his muffled whining.

Harry is in the kitchen when he gets there, staring into his coffee mug like it holds the answers of the universe, with his hair curling wildly over his head. Tim bumps him with shoulder and nudges him over onto the couch, depositing Pikachu into his arms. Harry takes him and holds him close, mumbling something Tim can't really but still makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a smile.

"Yeah," he says warmly. "Good morning to you too."

He makes breakfast for the two of them and leaves it on the table, dragging over some of their new blankets and spreading across his sleeping family members. His phone pings with a message and he taps out a quick reply, rushing off to get dressed. Before he goes, Tim writes out a note and leaves it on the table.

_Hey dad, I've got some loose ends to tie up but I'll be back tomorrow._

_See you in a little bit._

_Love, Tim._

He sends it over as a text message too, just to be sure.

The door closes behind him with a soft click and he pockets his keys, making his way down the stairs and out the apartment building.

The train station isn't that far away and Jack is waiting for him.

* * *

Tim finds himself feeling strange about being back in town. He's gotten used to the fast-paced city life in the short time he'd spent in Ryme and coming back to his childhood home feels a little odd, like he's seeing it for the first time and it doesn't fit quite right. His grandmother pulls him close and presses a kiss against his forehead.

"It's because you're growing out of it honey," she tells him. "You're walking forward again."

He hugs her tightly, holding on for a good long moment. She's right and he knows it deep in his bones.

"Thank you, Grandma," he whispers. "For everything."

She holds him back just as tight.

Jack drags him back to the fields again and they chat as they walk, drinking in the golden day. The skies are blue and clear and the breeze cool enough to be comfortable. Jack is bouncing on his toes and Tim feels buoyed by his enthusiasm and his obvious happiness at Tim's new life. It's good and they're both enjoying the moment, trying to stretch it out and save it in their memories. It feels like they'll never be here again.

They find the Cubone in the same place it was the first time and Tim turns down the offered pokeball. Instead, he walks across the small clearing to crouch in front of it, meeting it face to face.

"Hey," he says. "I'm sorry about last time."

The Cubone watches him with wide eyes but shuffles closer when he offers it a hand. In the back of his head he remembers the bulbasaur and its understanding gaze, the way everything felt easier when he wasn't holding himself apart from it all. Open to the experience, he thinks.

"You want to come with me?" he asks quietly. "I think it could be good for the both of us. I'm learning not to be alone too."

The Cubone inches closer and reaches out with a small claw. The breath leaves his chest in a soft rush and Tim holds its hand.

"We'll figure it out together, huh?"

It nods at him solemnly and for a moment he thinks he can hear its voice, small and determined. _I'll come with you. I won't be lonely if we're together._

"Yeah?"

He reaches out, carefully choreographing his movements and picks it up. The Cubone — his Cubone — is a warm and trusting weight in his arms.

"Okay," he tells it. "Let's go home then."

And they do.

* * *

He spends his last night in town at his grandmother's house and takes the train back home early in the morning. Jack comes with him half-way and gives him a tight hug when they part ways, patting Cubone who waves to him as he leaves. Tim spends the rest of the train ride talking to his partner, telling it all about his dad and Pikachu, about Lucy and her Psyduck and all the adventures they get into.

It sits in his lap and listens to him carefully, chiming in with quiet questions every once in a while. Tim doesn't even freak out about hearing its voice. Stranger things have happened.

Stranger things continue to happen too, because when Tim comes off the train with his partner in his arms, he has just enough time to see a familiar thunderbolt yellow blur rocket straight towards him before bracing himself. Pikachu scales his body with ease, vibrating with intense happy energy.

Tim dodges the people at the train station who look at him and coo at the loud pikachu on his shoulder keeping up a continuous chirping commentary and the small cubone held tight to his chest.

Harry is there, standing at the exit with coffee in two to-go cups and box of pastries held under his arm. He looks Tim over, taking in the warmth in his expression and his easy stance, the Cubone tucked in his arms. He looks lighter. He looks settled and happy, and Harry can't help the smile spreading across his face.

"Hey," says Harry warmly. "Welcome home."

Tim takes a deep breath and grins back.

"Hey dad," he says. "I'm home."

* * *

a note: part two of the series. **next up: **investigative reporter lucy stevens and trainee detective tim goodman.


End file.
